Brewing Desire
by irishredlass
Summary: For reasons known to none Snape accepts Hermione as an Apprentice. A to become a full Potions mistress she must learn the history of Potions and the sometimes dark practices behind modern day potions. Warnings: for dub con, squick, animal mutilation


**A/N: This was an exchange gift for Gilded Glamour. I will warn you now this story is not for the faint of heart. There is implications of dub-con, animal mutilation, and blood. You have been warned.**

**The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me, but the characters make such fun play things. **

Brewing Desire

"Need I remind you this was your idea?" Severus drawled as he watched his apprentice shake in horror at the task he had set her.

A simple Potions Mastery Certificate from one of the most prestigious Wizarding Universities was not enough for the vaunted Miss Hermione Granger. No, she had to prove, once again, that she was the queen of know-it-alls. She wanted to apprentice and become a full Master (he refused to use the term Mistress) of the art—then she would suffer, just as he had. There was a reason there were only nine fully qualified Potions masters in Europe and even fewer further abroad. It was bloody hard to obtain. Few had the desire to go beyond Certificate, as you could earn a decent living and even teach potions to dunderheads without being a full Potions Master, and even fewer had the stamina and stomach to make the grade. Where did she think all the ingredients she had been using for the last ten years of her potions education had come from? The bloody Muggle Tesco?

"Time is wasting, Miss Granger," Professor Snape snapped, "You have precisely two hours and twenty-seven minutes left to retrieve the bulgine liver, or the bile will be useless, and you will have wasted the life of yet another bulgine. They are not so common as to be unnecessarily disposed of."

Hermione recoiled in horror as she looked down at the small creature which lay upon the dissection table. It had taken her six attempts to even get to this point. Bulgines—though their name sounded horrid—were actually very cute with their soft pelts and big brown eyes. This one reminded her of the rabbit Lavender Brown had received in her sixth year at Hogwarts, though its ears were more rounded like a koala bear's.

She knew there had to be easier ways to retrieve the bile needed, but Professor Snape insisted it had to be a clean kill. No air, he said, could be introduced into the blood stream while the animal's heart still pumped, or it would compromise and infect the bile of the liver. It still amazed Hermione to find out that the Killing Curse was actually permitted for use if it was against a non-human. This meant that animals and even house-elves could fall victim to Avada Kedavra, and the caster would not be sent to Azkaban; in truth, it would never even be known unless Priori Incantatum was used on the caster's wand.

Her hands shook as she gripped the handle of the ancient curved blade in her hand. This was no scalpel like one found in an operating room. The blade was at least nine inches in length and curved back into itself. The handle was fashioned of hand-carved marble, making the implement heavier allowing the harvester to create a deep, clean incision without a lot of force, thus preventing undo harm to the carcass. As the blade penetrated the fur, skin and muscle, the scent of warm blood steamed into the cool night air. Shaken to the core, Hermione closed her eyes on a shuddering breath—gathering her wits and courage to complete the dissection and the extraction of the bulgine liver bile.

"Anytime now, Miss Granger; surely your vaunted Gryffindor bravery has not failed you now," Snape's tone was mocking and cool as the night air.

"You really have got to be the vilest man I have ever met. Do you enjoy this? Is that why you have cosseted me away in this Godforsaken forest so you can stand there and get off on the death and dismemberment of harmless animals?" Hermione shouted at the dark man who even now stood in the shadows wearing full Potions Master regalia.

In the heat of temper, she forgot the hapless creature lying before her as its blood pooled on the primitive wood of the dissection table.

"Temper, temper, Apprentice. You have a job to do, and I suggest you get to it. Unless…" he trailed off. They both knew he was insinuating she did not have the fortitude to complete this apprenticeship.

Hermione did not waste any more words as she glared at the man who held her future in his hands. It was times like these when she wondered why she had ever approached Severus Snape to mentor her apprenticeship, and more, why he had agreed. She had asked him many times over the last month why, and his answer was always the same i My reasons are my own and do not concern you beyond the fact that I agreed./i Finally, she looked down to the task at hand. The bulgine had bled out to the point where blood was now dripping on the dirt floor beneath the table. Taking a breath, the young witch set to extracting the liver and removing the bile from its many ducts.

Lying in bed later that night, Severus thought over the day's events. It was with great relief that he had witnessed the bushy-haired chit finally casting the Killing Curse with enough intent to kill rather than just mortally wound. He never wanted to hear those two words again. Since she had managed the kill and extraction of the bile, they could now move on toward other less repugnant tasks. i Well, less repugnant for him…/i

Hermione was no less relieved that the current segment of her training was complete. She knew she would have nightmares for years to come peppered with the image of gasping, twitching Bulgines. She had learned that when the Killing Curse was not cast with the proper intent to kill, then it would make the prey suffer even more than it would had the proper intent been used. Had Voldemort known this, she was sure many would have suffered more than they had. What made matters worse was that one could not recast the curse once it had failed, which meant death had to be delivered in another way-and the sooner the better if one wanted to be merciful. She had had to decapitate five animals before she had succeeded. Their death, their blood and their suffering was on her hands.

She hated Snape with every fiber of her being!

He threw the book at her while she was listlessly eating her breakfast of plain porridge. He controlled even the food she ate-no meat and very little fat. Her diet for the last month had consisted of plain porridge, fruits, vegetables, and nuts. Oh, what she would give for a butterscotch ice cream sundae from Florean's.

"After you have spent an hour meditating, read chapters one hundred seventy-six to two hundred twelve," he stated. There was no inflection to his voice, none of the underlying contempt that normally accompanied his speech.

Hermione looked up, puzzled. He was still impeccably dressed with posture stiff enough to make the trees of the rainforest appear relaxed, but he was even more pale than normal, and there were shadows under his dark eyes. It was apparent the Potions Master had passed as restless a night as his Apprentice.

Hermione was right. The Potions Master had not passed an easy night; that was not new, but on this night his dreams-or rather nightmares-were again haunted by those last moments on the Astronomy tower when he had been forced to utter two fatal words, killing the only man he called friend. How had he been able to do it when his apprentice had proven, all too well, that proper intent must be used? In that one instance, he had hated Albus Dumbledore as much as he had loved him. Albus was his superior, master to his apprentice, his friend, the father he had wished was his own and the instrument of his descent into darkness.

Severus watched Hermione as she finished her breakfast and walked to the clearing used for meditation. He remembered his own time here with Albus. Even then, the Headmaster was preparing him for that final moment which would be indelibly imprinted in his memory. It was never Severus' goal to become a full Master of the art of Potions making, but it had given Dumbledore the cover needed to train his spy into the killing machine he would later become. What would Miss Granger think if she knew it had taken him, Severus Snape, more than a dozen attempts to effectively kill his prey? Then he had spent the evening retching into the brush over what he had done? Remembering, he wondered how Hermione had spent her night. Did she cry? Did she relive that luminescent green light every time she closed her eyes as he did?

He wanted to hate her for her fresh-faced appearance this morning. He had expected blotchy skin and eyes that appeared hollow even as they were swollen from crying. Instead, she appeared as though the previous day had never happened. In one corner of his mind, he admitted she was not the same bushy-haired, bucktoothed, know-it-all from his Potions classroom over ten years ago.

Hermione settled herself in the clearing. The hot springs, which doubled as their bathing facilities, was to her back as she used the canopy of trees in front of her as a focal point for meditation. She could lose herself in trying to figure out just how many shades of green existed in the dense foliage.

The young witch congratulated herself on her calm presence this morning. It would never do to let the greasy bat know just how much the previous day's activities affected her. Appearances aside, she'd barely slept the night before. The use of a few surreptitious charms removed the signs of her restlessness. These thoughts brought her full circle to her Master's own appearance this morning. It was no surprise he chose not to use ifoolish wand waving/i to improve his looks, but she wondered why he would even have need of such charms after the joy he took at her failures

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"You have got to be kidding me!" Hermione shrieked, storming into his living quarters without even a cursory knock of politeness.

The Potions master did not even startle at the abrupt entrance and her agitated appearance. It was as though he was expecting her arrival. His calm demeanor only incensed the young witch further.

"If you think I am going to parade around here in the nude, you have another thing coming, you lecherous bat!" she ranted, pacing in the limited space of the hut.

"I think it is you, Apprentice, who is mistaken," Severus nearly purred. This was his reward for the sleepless night.

Hermione whirled on him. Her hair took to the air with her rapid movements as she stalked her prey. "No, Master," she said, sneering, "You are the one who is mistaken. I will not subjugate myself in such a manner for your petty amusement."

"Oh, you can, and you will." Snape replied, chuckling. "And, I believe, you flatter yourself if you think I will find any enjoyment in gazing upon your pubescent form. Apparently, you have not completed your reading assignment. I suggest you remove yourself from my quarters and do so." Severus propelled her to the mesh hanging which served as a door.

"Oh and, Miss Granger, I do believe a fast is in order to aid in your thought process. No supper tonight… for you" With that he unceremoniously shoved her out the doorway and turned his back, thus effectively ending the conversation.

"Damn the man to hell and back," Hermione muttered to herself as she sipped on tepid water to quell the feeling of hunger in her stomach. "A fast, indeed." She continued to mutter to herself as she finished the reading assignment in question. He was right; she hadn't finished the reading, but had flown into his hut to give him a piece of her mind when she had gotten to the part about preparing the potion sky clad.

She knew to become a Mistress of Potions she would need to learn the ways of the Old World. It was understood there would be things she would need to learn that she might never practice again, but were more a part of a time-honored tradition.

As the young witch read on about the ritual, she could not help but dwell on his description of her body: ipubescent/i indeed. Hermione knew she was no Pavarti Patil, and she had no desire to be, but she had never had reason to doubt in her femininity. Unconsciously, she let one of her hands trail down her body from the shoulder. Reaching her breast, she cupped it in her hand. No, it was not overly large; at the same time though, it was not small either. More than filling her own hand, she imagined it would fill a man's hand most appropriately.

Continuing to read, she forgot the placement of her hand until she realized she was caressing her own nipple through her t-shirt and undergarments. The ritual described was very graphic in nature and required a lot of discipline on the part of the Potioneer to have the resulting brew be usable.

In all the reading Hermione had done in the past, never had she read of channeling one's own emotions into the potion to create the desired affect. But then, she had never seen any of these potions in the Hogwarts textbooks either. That brought a derisive chuckle from her. She could hardly see Snape brewing such a potion. It was doubtful that he had ever desired another living soul since Lily Evans Potter had died. And who would desire him? iHonestly, the man had some nerve critiquing her appearance when she doubted he had even once used the hot spring to bathe in the month they had been in this Rain Forest, the greasy haired bat./i

Severus laid back in the hammock, letting the gentle sway lull him into a half doze, thinking over the latest confrontation with his Apprentice. Miss Granger did not disappoint him in her reactions to the reading material he had set her. If anything, he was a little shocked at her vehemence. Never had he encountered this side of her. Throughout her entire time as his student, she had always been completely respectful.

Running the scentless soap over her skin as she bathed in the hot springs, Hermione's mind replayed her last conversation with her Master. i You will prepare yourself appropriately for the ritual and be in the clearing one half hour before sunset. I assume you do not have to be reminded of the importance that there be no scent present but that of cleansed flesh./i He had instructed her.

They were to brew the precursor to the Amortentia potion, iExpleo Amor;/i the most powerful love potion known. Modern brewing techniques had changed this potion more than any Hermione knew of. No longer was it keyed only to the brewer. Now it could be purchased in Apothecaries, if one knew of an Apothecary shady enough to carry it. It's corrosive nature made Amortentia one of the darkest potions known, as it compelled the drinker to fall in love-not just lust, as was the characteristic of Expleo Amor, the potion she would be brewing this evening.

Hermione's stomach quivered when she entered the clearing at the appointed time. Snape was putting the finishing touches on the brewing space. She noticed the cauldron set out over the open flame, the ingredients on the cutting table and a second, smaller, cauldron already simmering over a soft flame. Like her, he was dressed in rough linen clothing, feet bare to the earth; and it was apparent he had also, finally, made use of the hot springs.

Already there was steam rising from the smaller cauldron, though she detected no scent. With a wave of his hand, Snape beckoned her over to the smaller vessel, directing her to inhale the steam; doing so, she felt a calm radiate out from her inner core, settling her nerves and apprehensions. Noting the change in her stature, he indicated she should take her place at the brewing station and begin.

Watching Hermione position herself, Severus contemplated the wisdom of setting her this particular potion to brew. Though it was keyed to females, he was not immune to the effects of the steam from the preparatory brew. It had been a long time since he had felt this relaxed-probably since his own Apprenticeship. That was the brew's very purpose; containing chamomile and lavender oil, it enabled the brewer to relax so he or she could open their spirit to the process. The potion she would brew required her emotions to enter it. If brewed properly, she would learn yet another lesson in the ancient art. Wondering if he would be able to deal with the outcome, his brows creased.

The table was circular, and in the open center, the cauldron was nestled, ready to receive her offerings. This potion required her to move about the brewing vessel, performing a dance of sorts to the goddess; as she placed each ingredient into the vessel, she would sing an incantation which would transfer her emotions and physical reactions into the delicate brew. Reading of the process, Hermione had been reminded of the three witches from a Shakespearian play; now, though, it seemed so natural.

Widening his stance, through shuttered eyes, Severus watched as his Apprentice made her first pass around the fire. He already felt his blood beginning to heat and his heart rate increase. With each pass, another layer of clothing would meet the earth.

Hermione shed the cloak she had worn into the clearing. Her breathing shallow, she continued the rotation. No longer was she appalled that she would reveal her body to Severus Snape—it was a necessity.

At the halfway point, Severus was no longer wearing his cloak, and he was now unconsciously stroking a bulging erection through his trousers. The rough texture of the material only enhanced the friction his hand was creating. Hermione was now only wearing a thin shift concealing nothing and tempting the eye. Her skin glistened in her body's attempt to cool itself, glowing; her eyes connected with his through the steam spiraling up from the potion she labored over. Never faltering in her words, she used her free had to caress her breast, twisting the nipple between finger and thumb and causing Severus to flex his hips into the hand that cupped his own sex as he shuddered into climax.

This was not a ritual of love, but one of lust, and both parties were lost to the process.

The moon was full in the sky, and she had been brewing for four hours by the time the flame was extinguished below the cauldron. Her hair was a mass of frizz, her heart beat erratically in her chest, her own essence coated her now bare thighs and she ached for completion. There was one final thing that must be done for this agony to be over. Ladling a dose of the pearlescent brew into the awaiting goblet, she walked over to her Master. No, she did not love him, but she had to have him.

Severus was grateful that he had already climaxed once this night or he would not have been able to properly test the potion, though he held no doubt it was brewed true. Never had he witnessed a more erotic sight than Hermione Granger as the gods had made her, slaving over a cauldron fire. Fortunately, she was not a Legilimens. With a steady hand, he took the goblet. Holding it to the moonlight, he noted the color and density; sniffing, all he could smell was the intoxicating aroma of her arousal. Looking her into her amber, lust-hazed eyes, he downed the potion in one swallow. As it should be, there was no taste.

The effect, though, was almost instantaneous.

Severus gasped as he felt his cock almost painfully harden; his eyes dilated as his nose twitched, picking up her scent. He had to have her.

In control of her own faculties once more, Hermione knew what he was feeling and meant to make him suffer.

"You want me, don't you?" she whispered.

He made to grab for her, but she evaded his hands.

"No."

i No./i As all of his blood settled in his groin, Severus attempted to process what she had said. iNo/i. It was her brew that had put him in this position, and she meant to leave him in this state of constant, almost painful, arousal? There was no antidote for this potion; the only surcease would be competing the lust-induced bonding it demanded. Until he was able to release himself within her body, his own body would know no relief.

"Convince me to allow you my body. Persuade me that this is what I want."

Her low husky voice was only making the situation worse. Every word she uttered set his blood burning to {at} higher levels.

Staggering under the weight of his arousal, Severus did the only thing he could do. He set out to seduce Hermione Granger.

Backing her into a darkened corner of the clearing, he struggled to maintain a modicum of composure. She held the upper hand now, and he knew it. He gentled his hands even as they yearned to grab and take. Trailing his fingertips over the flush of her face, he traced the contours of her cheeks and down her throat. Breathing shallowly, as the feel of her flesh incited his desire even more, he brushed her hair back, baring her throat to his kiss; the taste of her flesh ambrosia to his parched mouth. His tongue circled the pulse point just below her ear where her scent was almost overpowering.

Of their own volition, his hands found her soft breasts with their hardened peaks. He first caressed and then pinched her nipples and felt almost palpable relief when she shuddered in response to his ministrations. Bending his head, he lifted one rosy tip to his mouth. He groaned when he felt the roughened tip brush his tongue.

The vibrations sent another shiver down Hermione's spine.

He was doing what she demanded. He was making her ache for his body as he ached for hers. She felt his hands continue their journey down her body. She felt his shaft as he rocked against her hip, attempting to assuage the rampant lust coursing through his veins. His hand finally finding her mound, he gently cupped her sex, ghosting one finger along the seam of her already moistened lips.

A corner of her mind recoiled at what was happening. i This was the man who had made her schooling a living hell-the man who still sought to humiliate her by forcing her to brew this particular potion; he was cold and unfeeling. /i

At the same time her mind protested, her body submitted as she reached up to hold his head to her breast, and her hips shifted, causing his finger to brush against her clitoris.

Once he felt her wetness, he could not turn back. He needed her body more than he needed his next breath. With gentleness belying the urgency of his blood, he guided her to the clearing floor. Feeling her hands in his hair, he knew he had won, and she was now a willing participant in this coupling of lust. With her hands caressing his shoulders, back, and heaven help him, his arse, he shuddered in relief even as her hands made his heart race even faster.

Lifting her legs, he saw starts as he sheathed himself in her warmth. Her muscles clenched around his length, and he fought to clear his mind. Knowing this was the only time he would be in this position he intended to enjoy the sensation of her warm, wet and willing body.

Hermione raked her fingers down his back. She had never felt so full in her life. With each penetration, he seemed to touch her core. Grasping his arse, she pulled him in even tighter as she met him stroke for stroke on the clearing floor. A fierce cry blended with a piercing shriek. The force of their mutual release sent them both into the darkness of unconsciousness.

The moon was low in the sky when they returned to reality. The potion had run its course. Hermione, being the first to grasp the situation, shoved her Potion Master's warm body from hers and fled the clearing.

Rolling to his side, he watched as she ran as though the hounds of hell were at her heels. The expression on his face would have sent even the most evil man running as he reached down, caressing his renewed hardness.

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Severus Snape had a problem. His plan had backfired. i Now what are you going to do?/i he thought to himself. The plan had been simply to agree to apprentice the little know-it-all and reap the benefits of a good shag. No one could deny the shag had been good i hell he had used his memories of that night for the last week and had never in his life reached climax so quickly and thoroughly. The relaxation his body obtained allowed him to sleep more soundly than he had in all of his adult life. i So what's the problem, old man?/i his mental voice asked. The problem was he wanted more. Tonight he would not indulge himself.

iWhy had she done that? Why had she made him seduce her? It would have been so much easier to let him just have his way with her and be done with it. She knew when she read the chapters he had assigned that they would end up having sex. But why had she tried to make it more?/i Hermione tossed and turned as she tried to sleep, her thoughts tumbling about as they had each night for the last week.

The days were fraught with even more tension, and Snape's biting comments had reached a new level of cruelty. "Miss Granger, if you hope to pass this apprenticeship, I suggest you pull your head out of your arse and apply yourself instead of flouncing around like Gilderoy Lockhart." This-after all she had done was to appear in the lab with a touch of color on her lips and scent behind her ears. i Why was she trying to attract his attention anyway?/i

Severus had come to the conclusion that there had to be something wrong with the Expleo Amor potion. Why else would he be noticing her? The way she moved, the way she blew the hair out of her eyes with little puffs of breath when her hands were occupied and her scent. He could not get her scent out of his mind. Even thinking of the sultry aroma that was Hermione had him half hard with wanting what he could not have… her.

Hermione was just on the cusp of sleep when the quiet was broken by an earth shattering scream. Her body reacted before she put thought to action. Wand in hand, she entered Snape's quarters before she realized she had left her own bed. Through the moonlight, she saw him thrashing from side to side, muttering in his sleep, the sheet barely concealing his lower body. She backed out, praying he would not awaken before she was out of sight.

Now she had even more to think about. Not only was she battling what she hoped were the after effects of the Expleo Amor, but now she was concerned about him. It had to be the potion there was no other excuse for it. Why else would she be feeling these emotions? It was as though she could not stop herself from wanting to touch him and be touched by him. She humiliated herself by wearing make-up into the lab and he saw right through her paltry efforts.

iIt should not surprise her that he suffered from nightmares. Hell, who wouldn't after the life he had led?/i What surprised her was the knee jerk reaction she'd had to go to him and to comfort him. As if the greasy bat of the dungeons would accept comfort from the know-it-all, and why should she care? He never had./i

With the moonlight fading, Severus awoke from a vivid nightmare. Hermione had been captured by the Death Eaters and had become the play thing of a revel. He had not had that particular nightmare since the end of the war. It was not that he had harbored any feelings for the bushy-haired, buck-toothed chit; it was the very real threat of what could happen. Miss Granger would be surprised to know she was just as much of a target as Harry Potter where the Dark Lord was concerned, because she was living proof that blood did not tell. i He had been tortured in equal measure for not producing her as he had for not delivering the-boy-who-lived./i

This apprenticeship was to be his reward or revenge for all he had suffered protecting her and her friends. Now everything had changed, and he wanted a different reward. Resigning himself to no more sleep, he decided to take advantage of the early hour by visiting the hot springs to wash off the stench of fear sweat when he knew his Apprentice would not be up and about. Judging by the sky, he had a good two hours before Hermione would rise to greet the day.

A splash from the neighboring pool brought Hermione out of a light doze. She had been lost in thought as she floated on the soft warm water, its gentle current soothing her tense muscles and tired brain. Righting herself, she looked over just in time to see Snape standing waist deep in the next pool over.

Her gasp of surprise drew his eyes to her location. Severus quickly turned his back, cursing his inattention. iHow had he missed her presence?/i

Another indrawn breath made him realize that in turning his back to her, he had revealed the scars and ravages to his skin left over from the Dark Lord's attentions. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the pity in her eyes, and his anger boiled over. "If you are through staring, you can remove yourself at anytime, Miss Granger." It mattered not that he had been the late comer; he would not tolerate her pitying gaze a moment longer.

Hermione hastily retrieved her towel with a simple iAccio/i, more than willing to escape the Potion master's morning mood, but this could not continue. She had an Apprenticeship to complete, and it could not be completed if she avoided her master.

Back in her hut, she mentally chided herself for her cowardice. i Some Gryffindor you are. It is not like you haven't seen a male body before, and you had your hands all over his not a fortnight ago/i The problem was as contrary and disagreeable as he was: she wanted her hands on his body again… and more.

Though she knew it was cowardly, Hermione maintained her distance from Snape. Her mind, her body and yes, damn it, her heart were in conflict. She had always had a soft spot for the downtrodden, underappreciated and the unlovable. Too bad for her Potions master, Snape fell into all three categories.

After the fourth time in as many nights of being awakened by his gut-wrenching screams, Hermione broke. Quiet as a mouse, she tiptoed into his hut; as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw him lost to the horrors his mind's eye replayed.

Severus was dreaming; he knew it was a dream, but he could not pull himself out. Over and over again, he saw himself in full Death Eater regalia as he pounded into his apprentice's tender flesh. The nightmare was unsettling and arousing at the same time. Never had he so vividly experienced a dream. He could smell her, the honeysuckle of her shampoo and the light earthy fragrance that clung to her skin like a lover's caress. He felt the softness of her fingertips as she brushed the hair from his brow… wait a minute! His eyes snapped open, fully alert. His hand was still cupping his aching cock, his fingers involuntarily squeezing, as he looked into her sleep-softened amber orbs. With his free hand, he reached up and brought her lips to his in a bruising kiss. Caught off guard, Hermione tumbled half across the dark man's chest. The erratic heart beat she felt beneath her breast matched her own as she kissed him back.

Tongues, teeth and limbs tangled until Hermione found herself on her back with Severus Snape above her, glaring. "So you want to fuck the evil git of the dungeons, do you?" he snarled as he held her arms over her head. The shift of position pushed her chest forward. The flimsy cotton of her sleep shirt did nothing to hide how hard her nipples had become as his chest pressed against hers. She could feel his hardness as he thrust against her hip. Her own treacherous body responded, overriding the fear she felt at being caged by him in his half-wild state.

"No, I heard you cry out in your sleep. I thought…" Hermione gave up on speech when he thrust into her. Moaning, she struggled to free her hands though she did not know if she wanted to push him away or pull him close. Of their own free will, her legs wrapped around his slender hips as she met him thrust for brutal thrust.

With each powerful thrust, she felt him shudder and heard him grunt. Opening her eyes, she did not see a man in the throws of passion. There was no softness to his features as she had seen on her other partners' faces. He was feral and fierce. He glared at her with a grimace on his face, clenching his jaw so hard she could see the cords standing out on his neck. He thrust into her, almost manically seeking release. Hermione was horrified and aroused all over again. She could not help but to be turned on by his obvious loss of control as she felt herself shatter around his invading force.

Snape's tortured scream echoed through the hut. "Fuck! No!"

He pulled himself from her body even before his seed had finished spilling.

"Go. Leave. Now." It was barely a whisper.

"No."

"No? Do I have to explain to you what happened here?" he hissed. "I took you against your will. Like the Death Eater I am!"

"You will pardon me if I disagree with your assessment, sir. I will grant you it was not my intention for this to… to happen when I entered your hut, but I cannot say I dislike what occurred." Hermione was grateful for the late hour and lack of lighting. Perhaps he would not see the blush she could feel suffusing her face.

"Though I find that highly unlikely… be that as it may…" Severus trailed off, not able to find words adequate to express his thoughts.

"Is it so hard to believe?" she queried as she sat down next to him.

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Hermione entered the clearing to find her Potions Master there, ahead of her as usual, but that was where the similarity to the previous two months ceased. There were no cutting comments, no irritated glare directed toward her, and two-not one-cauldrons prepared for brewing.

At her inquisitive look, Snape actually deigned to reply, "I believe you have mastered the necessary techniques for solitary brewing; today we brew together."

Hermione tried to stifle her surprised gasp. Partner brewing was a delicate and little-practiced art form. It was rumored that it had only been through the shared brewing between Nicholas Flamel and his wife that the Philosopher's Stone had been created. It was infrequent that one found synergy with a fellow brewer, and it was only through such elemental magicks that some of the most intricate potions could be created. Conjoined brewing was not even required to complete her Mastership. She had never hoped in her wildest dreams that Severus Snape would consent to sharing his magic with her.

They started with the basics. A simple burn-healing salve easily brewed solo, but when they combined their skill and more importantly their magic, the results were amazing. Hermione watched as her dark heather-toned aura merged with his darker, almost eggplant-colored, magic. First, they seemed to glide along each other, but as they swirled inside the lip of the cauldron, they merged to create a vibrant royal purple, the color of kings, and then settled into the mixture. Textbook perfect burn paste was a burnt, virulent orange in color and would heal most burns in adequate time. Their brew was the orange one saw in the sunset over the ocean—almost too brilliant to look at.

Throughout the final month of her apprenticeship, they continued to work together; each potion becoming more intense than the next. Every time Hermione watched their auras merge, she remembered the two times more than just their magic had joined, and she wanted more. Severus was no longer the snarking bastard she had encountered since she had been eleven years old, but neither was he a ray of sunshine. Hermione found when she was quiet and did not press for the answers, they came gradually, like an ice sculpture exposed to winter sunlight.

Unlike the preceding months, they now shared meals and quiet time away from brewing, though Severus was careful to make sure he did not come into unnecessary physical contact with Hermione. He made an effort to quit using the sarcasm that came naturally and to curb his temper. There were nights when he wanted to strangle her and other nights when he was reluctant to retire, their discussions were so engaging. Who would have dreamed he would find a like mind in the bushy-haired princess of Gryffindor?

"Severus, you are wrong! According to Hogwarts: A History…" Hermione trailed off when she realized she had just blatantly told her Potions Master he was wrong. She glanced up, apprehension in her eyes, sure she was going to be hexed to next Sunday.

It took a moment for it to sink in that the deep melodic sound she was hearing was his laughter.

"The look on your face…" He continued to laugh. "I swear, your eyes are bigger than Winky's."

"I am so sorry… I should never have…" she hastened to apologize. "Wait a minute. Why are you laughing?"

"You. Now I know what all the talk was about while you were in school. Do you realize that there were bets going as to whether or not you would find some secret way to destroy the Dark Lord in that bloody book you quoted more than Muggles quote the Bible?" He continued to laugh, his smile reaching his dark eyes.

"Well… I…" she finally gave up and joined him in his laughter as she marveled at how much a smile changed his appearance.

Though in the daylight, they now shared laughter and learning, it was in the middle of the night when most of their secrets were shared. Sometimes it was she who would wake him, screaming in the night, but most often, it was the way around. She learned quickly not to touch him when he was in the throws of horrors she did not even want to imagine, instead letting her quiet voice would bring him back to reality. Once his eyes focused, and he knew it was her, she could continue to soothe his tremors with her arms. The first few times, he had tried to push her away in vain, but by the fourth time, he was reaching for her as a lifeline of sorts. Though they never started out in bed together, there were many mornings they would find themselves holding one another as the morning light filtered in through the slats of the hut's walls.

Hermione rolled over on her side to find his dark, penetrating eyes on her. She smiled up at him as she brushed the hair from her face. "G'morning," she mumbled, mindful of morning breath.

Severus was not so concerned and leaned over, grazing her lips with the briefest of touches. "It is that." And then he exited the bed as though he had not sent her entire system rioting.

In the hot spring, Severus reached below the water's churning currents to grasp his hardened flesh. This was killing him. He wanted nothing more than to sink into Hermione's warm depths but promised himself that he would not take her again until she came to him. Images of their first coupling flashed through his mind as his heart raced and his fist pumped faster. Clenching his jaw, he stifled the shout that would normally have accompanied his forceful climax.

Hermione wondered after Severus Snape's behavior. He would hold her, kiss her, work with her, and even share his secrets; yet, he never crossed the line, though she'd given him ample opportunity and encouragement to do so. More than once, she had felt his physical reaction to her presence, and she had lost count of the number of time she had been forced to take matters in to her own hands to relieve the ever-present burning ache his nearness perpetuated. The more she was around him, the more she learned of him; and the closer they drew, the more she wanted him.

Throwing the lightweight sheet off, she exited his domain for hers. Grabbing her toiletry items and a towel, she headed out to bathe. The sight that met her eyes when she entered the secluded area of the hot spring took her breath away and had renewed need pulsing at her core.

Standing waist high in the water, his wet hair slicked back, a cascade of ebony over his ivory skin, with his eyes closed and his teeth clamped over his thin lower lip, Severus Snape was a sculpture in erotica as he lost himself in his release.

Hermione made up her mind as she watched him bend over in an effort to regulate his breathing.i Enough was enough; no more/i. Silently, she made her way into the water, being sure to stay out of his line of sight until she could wrap her arms about his torso.

Still breathing heavily, Severus jolted when he felt her arms encompassing him. "What do you thing you are doing?" He hated that his voice sounded rough and breathless.

"Taking what I want."

He made to shove her arms away.

"No, let me say this!" Hermione tightened her grip so he could not escape nor turn toward her.

"Tomorrow is the end of my Apprenticeship, and in two weeks time, I travel to Munich to take my exams. From there, I do not know what will happen; I have offers from St Mungo's, the Ministry and private brewing companies, but I have not made up my mind," she murmured as she rested her head between his shoulder blades.

"Why are you telling me this? As you said, after tomorrow our commitment to each other is completed. Do you expect career counseling?" he sneered. "Go look up your head of house."

Hermione smiled; she had come to know so much about him in the last month. His gruff tone gave her the courage to continue. "It is not career advice I am seeking. I want your input because I do not intend to find myself more than a single Apparition away from you." She squeezed him and then let her hands roam over the chilled skin of his chest.

"Hermione, you do not know what you are saying." This time she let him turn to face her with a pained look in his eyes.

"Actually, I do. Remember? Know-it-all, here." She looked up at him with an impish grin. "Or maybe I don't, but I want a chance to find out what the future holds for us. I don't want to leave here tomorrow knowing I will never see you again. I want a chance. I want a chance to see if we can do what our magic indicates."

Looking into her warm eyes, Severus could not deny he, too, wanted that chance, for once, to see what tomorrow would bring.


End file.
